


Almost Heaven

by jellyfishsodapop



Category: American Made (2017), Logan Lucky (2017), Peter Rabbit (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst Lite, Bisexual Character, Cop/Criminal AU, Feelings, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, McLogan, brief mention of previous relationship (thomas/bea), kylux adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 09:11:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19809211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfishsodapop/pseuds/jellyfishsodapop
Summary: Based on the Fandom Game chart made by @mystic_milks on Twitter, this fic was requested by @MsModernity. McLogan/angst/cop and criminal/enemies to lovers/ mission sex/feelings. I'm not terribly good at angst, so it's a bit brief and you bet it's got a happy ending. Hope you like it!





	Almost Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MsModernity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsModernity/gifts).



Looking back on things, Thomas was happy to have left it all behind. Selling his house in Windermere after the amiable breakup with Bea and after the toy shop paid itself off, he sold that as well and moved to the states. It was the change of pace he needed and he had a couple of relatives stateside that he could ask for help finding work. Uncle Monty was the first to come through, and Thomas remembered all of the stories he regaled them with when he would come up to London to visit. As a child, Thomas was fascinated by the heists and takedowns that Uncle Monty had been involved with and he still remembered some of them clearly. Though Uncle Monty was CIA, he had a friend in the FBI that owed him a favour and Thomas was offered a non-descript desk job, something he could do easily enough until he found something he really wanted to do.

Until HR got a hold of Thomas' resume. Personable, gregarious, efficient, attention to detail, ambitious, and despite the fact that he wasn't a US citizen, they wanted him in the field. Thomas and Monty both pointed out numerous times that he wasn't trained to be an agent, that Thomas knew absolutely nothing about investigations and protocol but they wanted him anyway, English accent and all.

Which is how Thomas McGregor, ex-Harrods employee, ex-toy shop owner, ex-rabbit hunter, found himself in West Virginia in a gravel parking lot staring at a red neon sign that read 'Duck Tape Bar and Grill'. He was given one goal, and that was to find out anything and everything he could about a large, undisclosed amount of money (Monty was led to believe it was in the hundreds of thousands of dollars) that had been stolen during a race. The catch was that the person Thomas was supposed to be finding this out from had been in jail at the time of the alleged crime. One of their best, Special Agent Grayson, came away empty handed, and in a moment of frustration remarked that the Logan clan had an almost sixth sense for three things: bad luck, trouble, and the law and that what they needed was a fresh from the academy rookie, not a seasoned pro.

In the time honoured fashion of an agency with either 'Intelligence' or 'Investigation' in their name, they flagrantly disabused the notion they were capable of either, hence Thomas' sweaty palms and determined look as he walked up the stairs, nodded at the gent smoking out front, and opened the door. 

As expected, his mark was behind the bar serving up drinks to a fairly decent sized crowd for a wednesday night. The photo he had been shown didn't do the man justice. Mugshots rarely did and as he approached the one of the empty seats at the bar, Thomas also realised how tall Clyde Logan was, how he had to look up ever so slightly. The longer he looked the more he was overwhelmed with just how /much/ there was to the man, not just tall but broad and solidly built, a glorious head of dark hair that Thomas could imagine how soft it might be, a prominent, regal nose, a mouth almost sinfully lush, deep brown eyes that gazed at him steadily, measuring him up with a quiet calm in a split second.

"What can I get for you?" It was Clyde's voice that got him, a low rumble with a gentle cadence that put Thomas at ease instantly.

"Just a pint of Stella, please." 

As Clyde pulled the tap and filled up the glass, he remarked, "You're not from around here."

"No, I'm visiting some family." It wasn't a lie, per se. It was just that his family was a few hundred miles north. "Just thought I'd do a little sight seeing as well and found myself here."

Clyde placed the glass on a coaster and slid it across the bar to Thomas. That was when Thomas noticed the sleek, robotic hand. It was high tech and rather beautiful, carbon fibre and titanium reflecting with a subtle sheen.

"It's a beautiful area once you get past the city limits. Lots of trees and mountains. There's a national forest if you follow the seventy seven southbound." No one was clamouring for his attention, which gave Clyde a moment of respite to chat. "And another state park just off the thirty seven. Gorgeous drive out there, especially this time of year."

Late spring was always his favourite season and Thomas took a sip of his beer, contemplating his plan or lack there of. He might know his mission, but he didn't have anything even remotely resembling a plan. "Sounds like you're familiar with long road trips."

"I am. Sometimes I just go for the sake of going and enjoy the quiet once I'm out there." Clyde leaned forward on his elbows and Thomas could see the flecks of amber in his pretty brown eyes. "Perfect for when you just want to be alone. Or maybe with a special someone to escape from the world with."

There was a split second when Clyde held Thomas' gaze for a little longer than was seemly and he thought, ridiculously, hopefully, that Clyde was hitting on him. Heat spilled across Thomas' cheeks, over the bridge of his nose. "Maybe you could give me the best routes to take then? If it's not too much trouble, of course."

"I can do you one better and take you myself." It was Clyde's turn to blush and Thomas thought it might have been the cutest thing he'd ever seen. "I've got the next couple of nights off and nothing better to do. That is, if you don't mind me being your tour guide."

The smile that tugged at Thomas' lips was one of both anticipation and victory. Who would have guessed getting close to Clyde Logan would be this easy? Certainly not Special Agent Grayson. "I wouldn't mind at all. It's not every day I get an offer to go an a road trip with a handsome gentleman."

And that was the start of what ended up becoming a proverbial whirlwind romance. Even though he had trouble believing it was happening at first, Thomas was most definitely getting wooed by Clyde Logan and after they were seeing each other regularly for a fortnight, they exchanged their first kiss. After another week, Thomas forgot that he was supposed to be getting information to send this lovely man up the river and simply followed his heart instead, both of them falling further for each other with each passing day.

Not only was Clyde a gentleman in every respect, he believed in a proper courtship which hit Thomas' romance buttons square on. After a month and a half though, Thomas was prodded by his employers and the reality of the situation hit home. He was doing this for a reason and that reason was to implicate this lovely, kind man in a crime. Not only was this situation dire, he would look like he had led Clyde on, which wasn't the case at all. Thomas had fallen head over heels for Clyde Logan and there was no way to end this easily.

Or was there?

"So my visa expires in a week and I have to go back to London." They were cuddled together on the sofa of Thomas' vacation rental, half watching a movie and half having a slow makeout session. Clyde pulled away and just stared at Thomas for a long minute. "Besides, I have to find a job and start earning an income again. Can't live off the inheritance forever."

"Stay with me. Here. If we get married, you can apply for a green card, right?" Clyde's normally calm facade broke into a brilliant, hopeful smile. "And I've got a little stockpile of money. Well, it's not little, but it's enough that you'll never have to work a day in your life if we're together."

"Did you just propose to me?" He watched as the realisation hit Clyde, that it wasn't just a plan, he did indeed propose marriage to a man he had known for a grand total of seven weeks. But what really stood out was the mention of the money and Thomas was having a crisis.

"....." Clyde sat there for another long moment, lips in a thin line, his jaw tight as he ruminated. "Yes. Yes I suppose I did, but I mean it. If that's what it takes to get you to stay here, then I'll make it official."

Thomas felt his throat close up as Clyde got down on the hardwood floor on one knee, took both of Thomas' hands in his own, and cleared his throat. "Thomas McGregor, will you do me the honour of marrying me?" The cool metal of Clyde's robotic hand did nothing to quell the heat Thomas felt all over, his eyes getting all swimmy as said hand lifted Thomas' to his lips, kissing the back of it while those soft brown eyes kept a steady gaze on him.

"Yes. Absolutely. Oh my god, yes!" 

Nothing could have been better. Nothing could have been worse.

Thomas gathered Clyde into a tight, grasping hug, knowing what had to be done. For now, he'd savour these last days, down to the last minute. Was it all a lie? It didn't feel like one. His emotions were real, it was the premise that made his skin itch, cursing his past self for agreeing to this.

When Clyde took his mouth in a kiss, there was a new urgency to it, something with heat and intent and Thomas felt a shiver go through him. "Come to bed with me." The words were out before Thomas could overthink them and he stood, running a gentle hand through Clyde's lush hair and walking towards the bedroom.

Ideally, this courtship would have gone on for months still, but they both knew that there was a time for romance and a time to dive in, all at once, and that time was now. Halfway down the hall, Thomas heard the heavy footfalls of Clyde running after him and just as he turned, he was lifted up and thrown over a shoulder, his screech loud and shrill enough to make bats collide. It barely slowed Clyde down and they both fell to the bed with raucous laughter which was cut off by softly desperate kisses.

"I suppose since we're going to get married, I should probably tell you I love you." Thomas smirked and rolled them so that he was lying on top of Clyde, humming in pleasure as he felt hands on his waist, pushing up his shirt and sliding under it.

"That's good because I love you too. Might have since that first night you walked into the bar with your pretty accent and that perfectly styled hair." The sweet words were breaking Thomas' heart and the only way to cut them off were to keep kissing him. And so he did, long and slow and hungry, his own hands eager to touch, both of them shirtless in seconds and taking in the sight of one another. Thomas gaped openly at Clyde's muscular, broad torso, Clyde just as enchanted by Thomas' willowy build and milky skin. A thumb rubbed experimentally over a rosy little nipple and Thomas gasped, feeling it stiffen instantly.

"I...I have to warn you. I haven't been with another man in years," Thomas confessed, blushing down to his chest.

"That's fine, I haven't either." Clyde's fingertips traced the blush, ending at Thomas' other nipple and pebbling that one too. "We'll just be each other's from now on anyway. We've got all the time in the world."

Even as he sat up, straddling Clyde's hips, the tears welled up and spilled over.

"Baby, don't cry now. There's nothing to be sad about." Clyde reached up and wiped them away gently, Thomas sniffling and laughing at himself.

"I'm happy. Possibly the happiest I've been in my life." The ache twisted inside of him, gave a renewed surge of emotions that translated into action. The rest of their clothes were stripped away by eager, fumbling hands, Thomas taking his time to worship Clyde's naked body sprawled on the bed, first with his eyes, then his hands, then his mouth, caressing freckled skin and then covering it with kisses. 

Clyde's hands reached for fiery chestnut hair and the smooth slope of a shoulder, groaning as Thomas nuzzled at the trail of dark hair below his navel. Seafoam green eyes glanced up, watching the tension ripple through Clyde's torso, the shallow rise and fall of his breathing, the pleading look on his face. The scent of him had Thomas burying his face lower in the nest of dark curls, breathing in the heady musk and lapping at the base of his shaft which wrenched a long, low groan from Clyde.

He knew he was rusty from lack of practise but the sounds Clyde was making when Thomas took him fully into his mouth sounded like he was getting a blowjob from a seasoned pro. For all that Clyde was generally a quiet sort, he was exceptionally vocal in bed and adorably bad at dirty talk. Thomas was even more in love and when Clyde swung his legs wider at the gentle fingertips that massaged over his tight little furl, he began devising a plan.

There was no way Thomas could explain the lube in the top drawer of the bedside table without embarassing himself, but Clyde didn't have to see the toy tucked further back, nor did he have to know it was there. 

"Is it okay if I...?" Thomas held up the bottle as he knelt between Clyde's wide spread thighs and looked at his gorgeously flushed face. With a single nod from Clyde, Thomas squeezed the viscous gel on two fingertips and rubbed them over tight muscle, watching Clyde's cock twitch and leak, feeling him relax slowly. "For the record, I'm clean. Haven't been with anyone since my last yearly."

"Me too. That feels really good." If Clyde was a sight to see naked, seeing him fully aroused and trembling with anticipation only solidified Thomas' resolve. As if he wouldn't do anything to save this lovely man even if sex wasn't on the table. 

By the time he was three fingers deep, Clyde was rolling his hips down and fucking himself on Thomas' fingers, clutching at the pillow and arching his body up, filthy, needy little gasps and moans falling from parted lips. Awestruck and mesmerised, Thomas slipped his fingers free and drizzled lube on his cock, hissing at the sensation of simply smearing it around. He wasn't going to last long at all, which was a damned shame, but as Clyde said, all the time in the world. And Thomas would make sure of it.

When he sank into Clyde's tight, clutching heat and pulled down into a kiss that stole his breath, Thomas vowed to protect this man with every fibre of his being and down to his last breath. When they broke apart, panting and looking at each other as if the world outside didn't exist, Thomas grinned as the last part of his plan came together.

"What do you think of Barcelona? Or Amalfi? Maybe Marseille?"

"Do you always sweet talk people with foreign cities when you're balls deep?"

"No, just you."

"For like...our honeymoon?"

"Yeah."

"Well, any of them suits me just fine seeing as how I don't speak any of those languages, so I figure between the two of us, you're going to be doing most of the talking. And I have to say, I already think your accent is cute, but if you start talking Italian, we'll need an alone place real soon."

Thomas smiled and pressed another deep kiss to Clyde's delightfully eager mouth and began a slow, steady thrust, just enough to let Clyde get used to the stretch and to keep them both from getting off too soon. It proved to be more a tease than anything else and soon enough the headboard was wearing little grooves into the wall behind it and Clyde had his heels digging into Thomas' lower back, his voice gone all deep and guttural as he pulled Thomas down and groaned into his ear.

The sound shook Thomas to his core and that was all it took, his body obeying the desire that both of them shared. With his own voice all but wrecked, Thomas panted out, "In or on?"

"In. I want all of you." And when Thomas reached between them and wrapped a hand around Clyde, that big, beautiful body shuddered hard and he came with a shocked little gasp, spasming around Thomas who followed him over the edge only a moment later.

There wasn't much of an afterglow as much as there was a round two, this time Clyde putting Thomas on all fours to eat his arse out until Thomas was a shivering, begging mess. When Clyde finally took him, Thomas sobbed into the pillow, certain that he'd never been fucked this thoroughly in his life. When it was his turn to answer the in or on question, the answer was a very decisive in and when Clyde delivered, Thomas was astounded by the first hands-free orgasm he'd ever had.

Eventually they slept, sweaty and sticky and utterly sated. When morning came, Thomas woke to Clyde's face pressed into the curve of his neck, softly snoring. It was time to enact The Plan and after a phone call to Uncle Monty while standing in the back yard in just a pair of boxers at seven in the morning and exchanging a few heated words, a few more expletives, and the resounding conviction that Clyde Logan and his family were innocent beyond a doubt, Thomas had secured not only two passports, but also a flight out of the country in a private plane by one of Uncle Monty's close friends who happened to be a brilliant pilot. 

Which led them to a seedy dive bar in Fayetteville where said passports were secured from a harried looking Uncle Monty. Thomas would be in trouble, that was a given, but it would look bad for the FBI and CIA alike if word got out surrounding his hiring circumstances, so it would be brushed under the rug, but Thomas had to lay low for a while, years even. Which suited him just fine. 

They walked out to the parking lot where Clyde was waiting in the car along with Jimmy and Mellie. Uncle Monty pulled Thomas into a hug and told him to take care and to drop him a line every now and again. Thomas nodded and thanked him for everything and they parted ways, Thomas getting into the passenger seat of the bright red Nova.

Thomas handed Clyde his brand new passport, their fingers brushing affectionately. "Your uncle looks a lot like you. Then again, people say I look a lot like our Uncle Flip when he was younger. He was one of the few that escaped the Logan curse, most likely because he- " 

"Oh no you don't. You are /not/ going to go into the family curse tonight, not when we gotta do a flat out burn through three hundred miles to DC so you can catch that flight." Jimmy was having none of it even though he wanted to come along, just to spend the last few hours with his brother before he left for Salerno for god knows how long.

"Hey, at least it's like ten at night and we won't have to worry about traffic because then I'd have to call cousin Abbie in Richmond and get the skinny on dodging the rush hour." Mellie gunned the engine and kicked up a spray of gravel as she careened out of the lot and onto the road. "As it is, there's only going to be one patrol car every fifty miles on the interstate because it's a tuesday night and no one's out that late on a work night. Even then, I can talk my way out of a ticket on my worst day."

Three hours and nineteen minutes later, Thomas was fairly certain they may have broken some land speed record as they pulled into the private airstrip where a small jet was there waiting for them. There were hugs all around, a few tears, promises of keeping in touch. The sun was just starting to rise, the sky awash with cobalt and turquoise light, the breeze smelling like salt air and freedom.

The sun was coming through the windows and there was no sight of land below them, only open ocean and serenity. That was when Clyde turned to Thomas and grinned. "Your uncle must be something special if he can get passports for people in a day. He's the law, isn't he?"

"Well. Yeah."

"He was using you to find out if me and Jimmy were part of that heist last year." It wasn't a question and Thomas began to get a little nervous.

"Of course not." It wasn't a complete lie, just a technicality.

"And what if I said we were and that tidy little nest egg I told you about was from that heist. Would you turn us in?" 

"Hypothetically, if I was indeed working for him, which I am not, and I was given information pertaining to a crime that would get the criminals put away, and if you and your brother were the criminals in this case, then by turning you in, I would be doing a service to the agency in question, NASCAR, the bank, and possibly the country." Thomas met Clyde's calm, unwavering gaze. "The answer, hypothetically, is no."

"Why not?" The question was weighty, but Thomas' answer was simple.

"Because I love you." Clyde's smile warmed him, made Thomas feel like the past couple of months were a strange, convoluted dream if it wasn't for the fact that the man next to him was very real.

"I love you too." Clyde laid his hand on Thomas' thigh and leaned in close, the tip of his nose tracing the shell of Thomas' ear and making him shudder. "Now what was that about you teaching me how to speak Italian?"


End file.
